Its the kind of smell
you can't decide
if you like or not.
forgotten as soon as you toe off your shoes.
my spirit rubs its back upon the walls
rolling the scent
between skin and cement
now everything smells as it should.
Ah yes, the clouds rub together like thighs
and the sky smells of ozone
"Don't miss me, have fun", you say cheerily
and the lump in my throat is instantly huge.
I can't swallow my tears around it.
(I miss you, even when I'm having fun)
I skirt around the walls
from this hostile, echoing house.
Why now, after all this time?
Ripping out the air from around me
my skin pimpling with goosebumps;
reality is altered
standing in front of the fridge at 3 a.m
with shards of Just Back Then scattered around us.
Let us give this ghost a home
let it grow its own bones
plant its roots in the soil.
We may as well learn to share a corner of the blanket.
The strangest feeling of all is when
You try and sleep -
Eat the last biscuit, eat a pickle afterward
Distracting yourself from the agony
The dehydrating need to cry.
I remember bending and bending
the knees of my dolls
so they wouldn't stand so upright
(too hard to make them kiss)
and all that changed
was their frozen smiling faces
smiling now upon crooked legs.
unearthing them from the suitcase
plunged deep into the foundations of this house.
I watch the corners
out of the corners of my eye.
A woman jumped yesterday.
"They just moved into their
It was 4 pm, the sky just beginning
to dream of sunset;
it must have been quite lovely
strange new house behind her
demanding to be called home.
and let go.